


Crown

by bowblade



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-06
Updated: 2013-10-06
Packaged: 2017-12-28 13:30:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/992535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bowblade/pseuds/bowblade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She was born an Assassin. It was her birth-right to learn the tricks of the trade, to rise and be the star. Then one day her mentor gave her her own mission and asked the impossible of her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crown

**Author's Note:**

> I've not actually written anything properly for a long time and it shows. I just have a lot of Lucy feelings. And this is something my brain clearly wanted to explore at 4am.

"Lucy, honey. This is Mr William Miles. He'll be training you from today."

Because she was eight and small and she had no idea who he was and there was a strange man standing in the kitchen no matter what her mother had called him which demanded some respect, Lucy's response was blunt. "What for?"

The man smiled. It was a strange smile; it lacked any warmth. It only held bemusement. But she was eight, and didn't know the word for that.

"You'll find out soon enough."

-

She was born an Assassin. It was something she was meant to be. Something she had every right to be. But like much else in her life, Lucy worked hard for it. She worked hard to meet and go beyond William Miles' expectations. He only came by every now and then and usually unexpectedly and as every well mannered and behaved student should, she dropped everything for it, no matter where she was, whom she was with, or what she was planning at to do at that moment.

One call and she would be home within minutes. Naturally, it was a few years before that began to happen and it was no longer monitored by her parents. More so when she was about thirteen and basic training exercises in the living room were not enough. She would go with him to some no place with other kids of the same heritage. He was their mentor. She was the shining star.

She was smart. Witty. She always knew just where to look, had the knack for figuring things out. She was fascinated by technology and everything new enthralled her. The physical part of the training? Well, she was by no means the best but she was efficient. She had the stamina and the ability to reason, to predict, to keep going and outmanoeuvre her opponent. She wasn't opposed to brute force. She wasn't exactly the strongest, but it was enough to get by and to succeed.

She was born to _be_ an Assassin.

Born to stand against those who were evil, the enemy, the Templars. Abstergo. She believed it all.

She would be the hero, the heroine.

But, above all else, she wanted to please her mentor, the one who led her down this road.

-

He was late.

Fourteen year old Lucy drummed her fingers on the windowsill. She should be doing homework, or researching for her science project or even just plain research or homework for him, but instead, she was waiting. He was supposed to be here two hours ago. It wasn't like him to be late.

Perhaps an hour, but not two. Never two.

But he didn't come that afternoon. Nor evening. Eventually, Lucy went to bed.

The phone rang in the early hours of the morning, then died. Lucy picked up the receiver just outside her room. She heard him, talking to her mother, an end of a hurried conversation. "-son has left. Think about it. Can you send her?"

She didn't really understand what it meant, but there was no more left to listen to. She went to sleep.

-

Suddenly everything increased in speed.

Her initiation, her official one, was moved up.

William came to mentor her more often. She spent more time being sent to his side. She was withdrawn from classes to be schooled at home instead, which was the official reasoning. She was, enough to get her into college, but she spent much more time of it being taught and putting skills to active use. Field missions. Scouting for intel. Hands covered in blood. 

_On my mark, Miss Stillman._

Happy sweet sixteen, Lucy. What did you get for your birthday?

It wasn't all sunshine. But she knew that. She knew she wouldn't be that fairytale hero. That wasn't the way things worked, and she had realised that. But she tried, ever harder. Even more than before. Because even as he instructed her to take a life and make good on what research she had done it occurred to her he had never once praised her abilities.

Never once indicated she was needed for something.

Just that she could. Miss Stillman could eavesdrop, fight, infiltrate, fight. That was what mattered to him.

She made a bet with herself. She wanted to prove that thought wrong. He did appreciate what she did. She knew it. Didn't she?

_Now, Miss Stillman. Now!_

-

It was the day after she was accepted into college that he told her he had a mission for her. A solo mission.

She was excited, elated, and she went to find him without delay. He did appreciate her. It was something, quote, only she could do, unquote.

He told her she would make a difference, would save the world. That she would infiltrate Abstergo from the inside, over time, which would be her ultimate goal. To find out about a project that had been in and out of commission since the eighties but seemed to have switched gears forward again. She could find what they were looking for, from the inside.

She was all ready to sign up. Assassins were good. Templars were evil. Black and white. Simple.

Then he asked the impossible of her.

"You will have to cut ties with the Assassins."

Something broke.

Simple. Easily said. No remorse.

"I have to leave?"

Someone pulled out the rug from under her feet, but she held firm. She would be alone, but she did not fear.

She would do it. She was strong enough. She did not see the cruelty, the abandonment, naive despite everything and every self belief that she wasn't. She would come back. This was something she had been preparing for, for years, she could tell, every little thing to enable her to do the most important job of all and it was _hers_. The crown bestowed upon her head, the responsibility, the trust to get it right. 

She was needed.

She would do what she had to, for her brotherhood, even if he asked her to give it up.

For her family, even though she would never see them again.

For her mentor, even if he was the one to ask her to leave.

"Of course. I'll do it."

"Do not try to contact us again. Once you are in far enough, we'll come to you. Are we clear?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then you'll leave tomorrow."


End file.
